The Desires of a Countess Page 18

  “What happened to your father?” she asked as she tried to catch her breath.

  His mouth stilled. “What?”

  “Your father.”

  He took a step back and her body screamed out its disappointment, even as she turned to face him. Now that there was distance, she could look at him without revealing her whole heart.

  “He left, you know that. He went out to sea.”

  She nodded. The light in his eyes faded and was replaced by a dull pain.

  “Yes, but you followed him. Did you ever find him?”

  His mouth thinned. “I didn’t go looking for him.”

  “Of course you did.” She cocked her head, no longer only interested in distracting him from his seduction, but now involved in the story of his life. “It’s clear you went to sea in order to purge his demons. And perhaps to prove that you, unlike him, were capable of both following your dreams and keeping up on your responsibilities.”

  He paled at her assessment. “Perhaps you know me better than I thought you did,” he muttered. “I did go looking for his ghost. I wanted to find out why he left the way he did. But the more I traveled, the more I loved the ocean for its own sake. It made me wonder if I am destined to be like him.”

  “No.”

  She reached out to place her hand on his arm. No longer was this discussion an excuse for her. He needed her to listen and to understand. Her own emotions and turmoil could be put aside until she’d done that for him. Certainly he’d done so much more for her.

  “Simon,” she said quietly. “You have proven again and again how seriously you take the lives of those you care for.”

  His answer was a shrug and eyes took on a boyish sadness that touched her to her very core. She moved closer.

  “You’ve bent over backwards to care for your mother’s every need,” she continued.

  He nodded as he looked past her toward the gardens. “She sacrificed everything for me.”

  “And you’ve done the same for her.” His gaze came down to meet hers again. The intensity there made her swallow hard before she continued. “And then there’s me.”

  He smiled softly.

  “I put you through hell when you came to Westdale, yet you stayed because you felt you owed it to my son.” Of course, that had and still did throw her plans to the wind, but it didn’t diminish the man Simon was. “Even when I fought you, you tried to do what was best for me. And for Jack.”

  “And you hated me for it.” Reaching out, he ran his hand along her cheek.

  She smiled as she just resisted the urge to lean into his touch. “No. I lo-”

  With a gasp, she stopped. What was she doing, nearly admitting she loved him? Even Simon’s eyes grew wide with amazement at the sentence she’d begun.

  Taking a step back, she said, “All I’m saying is that you aren’t like your father. You don’t have to keep chasing him.”

  Though his stare still burned into her, Simon shook his head. “Actually, I don’t chase him anymore.”

  She wrinkled her brow. “What do you mean? You still go out on your ship.”

  “Part of that is love of the adventure and my responsibility to my company.” His voice grew tired. “But it isn’t to chase my father anymore. Because my father is dead.”

  ***

  “Your father is-dead?”

  Simon didn’t blame her for her shock. The fact that his father was dead still surprised him sometimes, too. In fact, when he thought of the old man, it always made him lurch. Just as he had at the beginning of this conversation with her.

  “Yes, he died early last year.”

  She took a step toward him and reached her hand up to rest her palm on his cheek. He leaned into the warmth.

  “Oh, Simon,” she whispered as she shook her head. “What in the world happened?”

  With a sigh, he reached up to remove her hand. But instead of pushing it aside, he tangled his fingers with hers. Looking down, he examined their intertwined hands. His, rough from work and weather. Hers, soft as satin and pale. But perfectly matched nonetheless.

  “You told me about Henry’s abuse,” he said as he took a step away to lean against the terrace wall. “Even though I know it was difficult to trust me with that painful truth.”

  “Yes, it was.” He heard her slip up behind him and turned to face her. She smiled softly. “I understand if you don’t want to share this with me.”

  “No.” He shook his head. He cleared his throat and found that with her, the words somehow came. “Last year I came upon an island in the West Indies. I’d heard my father might have gone there, so I took a shipment of supplies to a colony near there in order to seek him out.”

  He shook his head. “Oh, I told myself at the time that I was only going to further my business, but in my heart I knew the truth. I was going to see if he really existed.”

  Ginny stared at him evenly. “What did you plan to do when you met him?”

  He laughed, an empty, hollow sound. “That’s just it. I had no idea. But it didn’t matter anyway. I asked my questions and showed the miniature my mother had given me years ago, just as I had a dozen times before. But this time was different from all the others. Some of the natives actually recognized him and pointed me to a small village outside of the main port town.” He paused as he briefly relived the joy that moment had brought him. Hopes he’d believed to be long dead had awoken in him, only to be dashed. “When I reached the place, I found out they were right. The man they spoke of was Edward Webber, my father. But he was on his deathbed.”

  She winced, but didn’t interrupt. He drew in a long breath as the memories flooded back. He could see his father’s gaunt face and wasted body lying before him. The emptiness in his eyes, the man who was just a shadow of the father he’d remembered.

  “Did you tell him who you were?” Ginny’s soft voice brought him back to the present.

  He nodded. “Yes. But he didn’t know me.” His mouth turned down even farther. “Even when I said my name.”

  At that, Ginny made a soft sob in the back of her throat. In a few long steps, she closed the distance between them. Without warning, she took him in her arms and held him tightly. She smoothed her hands through his hair. He was shocked at how comforting her embrace was.

  Before he’d always felt lust when she was near, and while his body still acknowledged the way she pressed against him, this time what was more prevalent was a comfort he hadn’t known existed. Like he belonged with her, or that perhaps, with time, she could take away that long-nurtured pain.

  “Simon, that must have broken your heart,” she whispered as she drew back a fraction to look up into his face.

  He was shocked to find tears streamed down her cheeks. Here was a woman who refused to cry for her own pain, and yet a tale about his made her weep. He brushed away a few of her tears.

  “It broke my heart when he left us. I was surprised how little it hurt when he didn’t know me.”

  She sniffed and pulled herself back together, though she didn’t release him right away. “What did you do?”

  He extracted himself from her embrace to pace the terrace.

  “I spoke to the woman he lived with. His ‘wife’, a native woman. From what I could understand, he’d come to the island ten years before and they’d been together ever since. They had three children. My half brothers and sisters.”

  She shut her eyes with a quiet gasp. “Oh.”

  “I was angry he’d stayed with her when he wouldn’t stay with my mother and I,” he admitted as he clenched and unclenched his fist. “But the woman told me that wasn’t true. My father had been feeling his wanderlust again, but had fallen ill and wasn’t able desert his new family, no matter how willing he was.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Before I left, he died.”

  He could see her ponder what he’d said and she seemed to live the emotions he couldn’t bear to feel himself. He saw the anger on her face, as well as the pain and the betrayal. They were emotions he’d cut
himself off from, but seeing her go through them reminded him of his right to experience them.

  “It must have pained you to see his other family,” she whispered.

  “I’ve sent them money to help them, but for all I know he started even more families during the years between the time he left my mother and the time he came to the island.” He shrugged.

  Her blue eyes widened with sudden, shocked understanding. “Is that why you go out? To look for a family you don’t even know exists? To make up for the failures your father perpetrated?”

  He frowned. He hadn’t ever shared this much with anyone before, and especially not someone who seemed to read his motives better than he did himself. “I go out to prove I’ll come back. I go further each time, waiting for the moment when I won’t want to return.” He nearly choked on his emotion. “Waiting for the moment when I’ll transform into him.”

  She shook her head. “Simon, if that hasn’t happened in all this time, I don’t think it ever will. Tell me, did you father ever come back to England after he left. Even once?”

  “Not once.”

  A smile was her answer. “Then you’ve already proven you aren’t like him, for you’ve returned many times and done so much for your family, even the Blanchards, when it’s obvious you hold little more regard for them than I do.”

  “Except for my mother,” he corrected with a smile.

  She laughed. “Well, we both hold your mother in high regard.” Her smile faded. “What does she think of all of this?”

  He shook his head. “I never told her. I didn’t want her to experience any more pain than my father already caused.”

  “Simon!” Her shock was evident on her face. “I can understand not telling her about the other family, but you haven’t even told her that her husband is dead? Don’t you think she has a right to know? Perhaps if she did, she could move forward in her life and then some of this responsibility you feel would release its strangle hold.”

  His head ached from everything she’d said. There was truth in it, all of it. Perhaps he should tell his mother after all. And perhaps he didn’t have to keep chasing a ghost. Especially if he had something to come home to at night.

  Something like Ginny.

  She touched his hand and his skin tingled from her fingertips to every nerve ending in his body.

  “If this story shows anything, it proves what I told you in Westdale. Your father didn’t leave because of something you did or lacked. He left because he was selfish. Death was the only thing that could keep him anchored. And as much as you’ve taken control of your life, you are not as strong as death. Stop torturing yourself. Make a home if you’d like.” Her eyes darkened. “Or choose the sea, but do it for the love and not to prove a point.”

  With a sigh, Simon tugged her against his chest. Nothing had ever drawn him like this woman did. Not his ship. Not the sea. Not even his quest to find his father.

  Dipping his head, he caught her mouth for a long kiss. But as the kiss deepened, the words they’d spoken melted away to be considered later. All that remained was the desire he felt for her, and the need to take the comfort he knew he’d find in her arms.

  When she responded to his touch by kissing him back with fervor, he whispered, “Meet me upstairs.”

  Her eyes widened, but she didn’t move away from his lips as he drew them along the graceful curve of her neck. “Now?”

  He pulled back to look at her. “Yes.”

  “Someone will see,” she protested, even as her hands slipped under his coat and slid along his chest.

  He shut his eyes with a quiet groan. “We’ll go separately as to not draw attention. Lady Hornsbey has many extra rooms where we could find privacy for a little while. Please.” He looked her in the eyes and bared his soul to her one last time. “I need you.”

  She blinked as sudden, strong emotion flashed on her face. “Yes.”

  With a grin, he kissed her, then backed toward the terrace door. “Meet me in the West Wing hallway in a quarter of an hour.”

  She nodded as he turned and reentered the ballroom. There was a spring in his step he hadn’t felt for years. Could Virginia Blanchard have freed him from a prison he’d built around himself since he was nine? Maybe not in one short night, but he felt as if she’d offered him the key to his release, and all he had to do was grab it.

  Chapter Nineteen

  One more time.

  What harm could come from one more time in Simon’s arms? Especially if he needed her, and judging from the painful story he’d told her outside, he did. If she were honest with herself, she needed him just as much. Tomorrow she could find a way to put him aside. She would ask for Harriet’s help… again.

  Harriet. Where was she anyway? Even though the carriage taking Harriet and Adam had left for the ball before theirs, she hadn’t seen either of them all night.

  “Ginny!”

  She turned at the sound of her name coming across the crowd to see her brother and his wife waving at her. With a smile, she headed over to them. Marion looked beautiful in a spring green gown with a satin bodice and Noah looked dashing as ever in his evening garb. Ginny had to admit she’d never seen a more suited pair, or one more in love. The newlyweds could hardly keep from staring at each other and they never stopped touching, even if it was just the simple act of holding hands. Ginny was happy for them, but something about it also stirred the tiniest flash of jealousy deep inside her.

  “Have either of you seen my friend Harriet Percy?” she asked over the din of the teeming ballroom.

  Marion shook her dark head as Noah used his superior height to peer over the crowd. “I’m sorry, Ginny, we haven’t seen her all night.

  “That’s odd. I expected her to come find me when we arrived.”

  She glanced around once more and just caught sight of Simon disappearing up the long staircase to the west wing. Her throat constricted. In just a moment, she would follow and within the hour she’d be basking in the warmth of his touch. She shivered with the thought.

  “Are you all right?” Noah asked with a touch of her arm that brought her back to reality. “You are a little flushed.”

  She felt hot, but not for the reasons her brother thought.

  “I’m fine. It’s just so crowded here. Very different from that breath of fresh air on the terrace.”

  “The crowd is probably why you can’t find your friend,” Marion said. “I swear, I never see half my acquaintances at events like these. Too many people to tell who you’re near.”

  “I’m sure she made it fine,” Ginny agreed.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at the staircase, but Simon was gone. A giddiness filled her. Now it was her turn. She only hoped she’d find him with no trouble.

  “Well, if you two will excuse me, I should see if I can find her. I’d like to speak to her.”

  With a quick nod for her brother and his wife, she moved off through the crowd. But if felt more like floating as she weaved her way around men and women. She hardly heard the buzz of conversation that nearly drowned out the music. All she was focused on was Simon. She could almost feel his mouth on hers already. Almost taste his skin and feel his hands skimming down her body.

  “Virginia.”

  She froze and the delicious thoughts of making love to Simon fled her mind. Turning slowly, she faced her mother-in-law. She nearly jumped when she saw Cordelia had her two daughters in tow. Felice and Rowena had their mother’s looks, though their cruel green eyes often put Ginny to mind of their late brother. Felice was the prettier of the two, neither one had especially nice faces. But it was their attitudes that had kept them from finding husbands in the four Seasons one or both of them had been out in Society.

  But then, none of them had snubbed her. Ginny was a bit surprised, but apparently Simon’s threat had hit home. The expressions on their faces didn’t exactly say familial love, but they were somewhat accepting.

  “Cordelia, Felice, Rowena. How nice to see you all.”
She glanced over her shoulder as she spoke. In a few moments she’d explode from the tension only his touch could release her from.

  “You act surprised that we’re here,” Felice said with a nasty smirk that let Ginny know exactly how much she was hated.

  “Yes,” Rowena agreed. “We certainly have more right than you do. A widow shouldn’t even be at a ball. And she certainly shouldn’t look so pleased after only a few months since… since…” Rowena sniffled.

  Felice finished for her. “Our dear brother’s death.”

  Ginny bit her tongue. During Henry’s life, the two sisters hadn’t liked him much more than she had. But now they played the grieving family to the hilt. The only one who truly seemed to mourn Henry was his mother. And Cordelia glared at her pointedly.

  “You do look awfully pleased with yourself,” she muttered as her eyes narrowed.

  Ginny shrugged. What was she going to do, tell them she was planning a tryst with the man she loved? Though it might be worth the looks of horror on their faces, making her relationship with Simon public wasn’t a good idea.

  “I’m pleased to be back in London. And happy to be reunited with my family.”

  Cordelia cackled. “You? Pleased to be back with your family? Why, I’ve never seen someone so disdainful of their kin in my life. No, there’s more to your glowing face than you let on.”

  Ginny’s false smile fell. “Cordelia, you know very little about me, including my situation with my family. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have something more important to do.”

  Grabbing her skirt, she spun away from the gaping Blanchard women and hurried toward the stairs. Once at the bottom, she turned back to see Cordelia glaring at her with enough hatred in her eyes to heat a dozen volcanoes. But Ginny didn’t care. At the top of the stairs was the man she loved. And tonight would be the last time she could show him just how much she cared for him.

  ***

  It was amazing how many members of the ton took use of empty rooms at balls. Simon leaned back into the shadows and watched yet another couple slip into an unused bedroom. In a few moments, he and Ginny would be one of those taking their pleasure in secret. The thought made him grow hard with anticipation.